Six Degrees of Separation
by swaggercaptain
Summary: The road to salvation is a bumpy one and, for a pirate and a savior, begins in a beautiful and lethal land: Neverland. Six events that led to Emma and Killian's redemption inspired by the song, 'Six Degrees of Separation.' Starts in Neverland "3x01"
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is a little six-shot based on the song 'Six Degrees of Separation' by The Script. Every chapter will have a stage woven into it - and for those of you silently admonishing me for starting another mini-fic while I've still got two in progress, you are absolutely right and I apologize but my muse hates me. So there.**

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_First, you think the worst is a broken heart_

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Emma had experienced a lot of pain in her life.

She knew well the feelings of heartache, where her chest seized up and her breathing came in rapid, hollow gasps. She had experienced hurt, where her stomach formed intricate knots at the bottom of her abdomen and her eyes prickled with tears. There wasn't much that she hadn't experienced in the domain of unfortunate sentiments – every world, from the Enchanted Forest, to reality, to Neverland, had dealt her near-fatal blows.

Emma Swan knew how to deal with despair and yet, as the Jolly Roger bobbed up and down on the unseasonably rough waves, she felt a tiny part of her reserve break. It had been a month since Henry's abduction; a month spent roaming Neverland's dark and death-laden realm.

Gold's enchanted globe only gave them general co-ordinates and it seemed the Lost Boys were sporadically changing position – as though they could anticipate every time the ship grew close. David and Mary Margaret were steadfast in their determination, and Emma wondered if it was for their own sake or for hers. Her mother had made numerous offers to talk, tentatively suggesting that she might benefit from venting some of the pent up tension that curbed her shoulders and stiffened her neck.

But every time, without fault, Emma had refused. She couldn't talk to the young woman who was somehow her mother. It didn't logically work – and the blonde still had trouble bending her perceptions to accept the fact that her mother was not only her age but the one and only Snow White.

She loved her mother – that was unquestionable. But, being raised independently, it was ingrained in Emma that when times got tough, the only person she had to rely on was herself. Too many times she had entrusted her feelings with others only to have them trodden on.

So, natural instinct dictated she keep her grievances to herself; letting them slowly eat away at her insides until she collapsed.

And it seemed the one-month anniversary of her son's abduction was the prime moment to collapse.

Emma clutched the banister on the side of the ship, leaning over and breathing in the cool night sea air. Her breath came out in small white wisps, floating up into the black, starlit sky. The only light aboard the Jolly Roger was cast by three lanterns: two either side of the entry to the decks below and one hanging by the mast.

The rest had been extinguished upon their party's retire to bed.

She really had tried to sleep, but, evidently, no amount of fatigue could make her forget the duration of time they had spent in the dangerous land; the anniversary like a blow to her assurance.

Her blonde hair flicked around lightly in the breeze, occasionally impeding her vision with a golden strand. But she didn't care, she wasn't looking at anything in particular. She just needed a moment - only a second to gather herself before she would retreat below deck and force herself to sleep. Because she needed to be at her best for him, she needed to preserve what little energy she had.

Thoughts of Henry swirled in her mind, images of him flashing mockingly behind her lids every time she blinked. Emma felt her knuckles go white with the amount of pressure she was applying on the banister, gripping it as though it were a lifeline in the tsunami of emotions threatening to swallow her whole.

She closed her eyes, pushing desperately at her mind's conjured images of her son; cold, alone, afraid, hurt. Despite her best efforts, Emma felt a lone tear trail down her cheek, burning her cheek in a humiliating track of wetness. Her lip quivered ever-so-slightly and she bit down on it hard, almost drawing blood as she forced herself to think of anything else.

It seemed her mind had chosen tonight as the night to slay her with images of her failings because more visions replaced Henry's face. But this time, they were of Neal; watching him get shot through bleary eyes, fighting off Tamara with fury-infused adrenaline, the portal opening, gripping tightly at a hand and feeling the tendons in her hand protest, tapping into every last reservoir of emotion in a frantic scramble to save him, Neal falling into oblivion. Another tear slid down her cheek and Emma looked down at her tightly clenched hands.

She kept failing.

The sound of metal hinges squeaking in meek protest snapped her to attention and Emma hurriedly wiped at her cheek, taking a steadying breath before spinning on her heel to confront the unfortunate soul who dared interrupt her. She blew out her breath in a sigh when she saw who it was, exasperation almost immediately tinting her flushed face.

"It's late, princess. What are you doing up here?" Hook asked, his eyes doing a quick once over of the deck before landing on her again.

He walked towards her and stopped a short distance away, his icy stare surprisingly tentative. He appeared to be treading on glass shards. _Good._

Emma really shouldn't complain – he had been uncharacteristically docile in the past month. She could count on one hand the amount of times he'd taken the opportunity to jest her; a fact that both comforted her and perturbed her, though she'd never admit it.

He hadn't been treating her with kid gloves, but he'd kept his distance. When they spoke, it was always with purpose – discussing the safest way to get through a certain area of the Neverwoods, how best to approach a group of scantily clad mermaids for information, what plants were safest to consume. She'd scarcely had a conversation with him that hadn't revolved around getting to her son. And something about that resonated deeply in Emma, that he was focused entirely on the exact same goal as her.

Though it still confused the hell out of her – he didn't, after all, benefit in any which way from their arrangement. In fact, if anything, it was costing him a whole lot more than was logically reasonable.

She could see in the way he observed the land, the look of mixed apprehension and discomfort. Something about this land made Hook uneasy and it had something to do with his past. Curiosity pricked at Emma's nerves constantly, but she smothered the feeling with determination to get to Henry. In his presence now though, as his eyes left her to briefly scan the sea surrounding them, she wanted to know.

_What did he ask again?_

Emma stayed silent, wrapping her arms around herself and looking in the direction he had, out towards the black sea.

Hook raised an eyebrow, "What are you doing up here?" he repeated his question.

She shook her head and shrugged, "Just getting some air."

He levelled her with a strangely appreciative look, "Couldn't sleep?"

Emma nodded before her defences could kick in and tell her to withhold the information. Inability to sleep typically signalled weakness and any show of weakness was intolerable in the pirate's presence – especially when he already knew how to read her without her willingly revealing a thing.

Hook nodded and walked to stand at the side of the ship, never moving closer to her. She wondered if he did it purposefully, fearful that he might set her off if he amplified their proximity.

The sea breeze ruffled his raven hair and he inhaled deeply. Emma found herself studying him and before she could help herself, she asked, "Why couldn't you sleep?"

He turned to her, leaning on the banister as he appraised her, "What makes you think I couldn't sleep?"

Emma shrugged, "Why else would you be up?"

Killian nodded with a small mirthless smirk and began to pick at his appendage, his eyes snapping onto it as he answered, "Touché." There was silence, the only sound the soft lapping of the waves against the side of the ship. Emma waited for him to answer but he didn't make any move to speak.

"Well?" she prompted, taking a miniscule step closer.

He looked up to meet her gaze, the cerulean blue enchanting in the dim golden light cast by the lanterns.

"I'll tell if you do," he replied, a challenging lilt in his voice. Emma's eyes narrowed fractionally as her mouth smoothed into a thin line. And so the game of cloak and dagger began without the slightest bit of fanfare, neither acknowledging the tension that began to seep into the frigid air between them.

Emma didn't reply and he nodded, silently conceding her refusal to answer.

"Where are we going tomorrow?" she asked, weakly attempting to change the topic to something a little less delicate. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, a white wisp of air from his nostrils the only indication he'd made a feint snort of amusement. Hook stood up to his full height, the smirk a little dark around the edges as he stepped closer towards her.

Despite the glint in his eyes telling her he was thinking something completely different, Hook responded, "The crocodile's globe indicated your boy is on the South end of the Island, near Skull Rock. Luckily the wind is on our side so we'll be there by midday."

Emma nodded and once again silence descended. She wanted to leave, but something profound and unidentifiable kept her rooted to the spot, facing him. The noiseless moment extended for a long second and then he cocked his head to the side, his eyes darting from her eyes to her cheek.

"You've been crying."

Emma's hand twitched with the sudden urge to wipe her cheeks futilely and he saw the movement, frowning unsurely. She didn't know how to answer, so she finally let her protective instincts take over and began walking towards the door that led below deck. She had just passed by him when she felt a soft grip on her upper arm.

Emma turned to face Hook, whose face betrayed the faintest hint of concern as he let his arm drop.

She looked up at him expectantly, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to speak.

"I know it's been a month," he eventually said, looking down with… _shame? _

The words fell from his mouth like dead weights, landing on the deck with a guilty thud. He was embarrassed. He knew how long it had been.

Something strange occurred to Emma, and it was as though she could finally translate a page of the eternally obscure book that was Killian Jones. The scrawled writing stood out clear to her, taking her off-guard with the implication laced indiscernibly into his words.

"That's why you can't sleep, isn't it?" Emma asked quietly.

Hook didn't answer but she could see it – _feel_ the way his eyes avoided hers. He felt like he'd failed and that notion touched her, a puzzle piece shifting into place as a small voice grew marginally louder in the back of her head, prompting her to realise something just out of her reach.

"Same," she said, her voice cracking a little as she spoke.

It was an admission of weakness and one that her natural instincts roared at in objection, scolding her for such idiocy. But there was another part of her, soft and light, that brightened slightly when he lifted his head to meet her eyes. Mutual understanding shaded the exchange as she felt something strange and small bloom in her chest. Something that reminded her of the first time she'd given Henry a sliver of information about her past.

As the air grew too dense, Emma nodded, breaking the spell that surrounded them and meeting his eyes for a second more before spinning on her heel and heading towards the door that led below deck. She had nearly reached it when a strange sound ran clear and shrill through the night air.

It sounded like something akin to a screech, and yet the tenor of the voice was oddly beautiful, albeit haunting. Emma's brows pulled together as she turned around, gooseflesh erupting across her skin as the high-pitched keen extended. She searched the deck for the source of the noise, her ears beginning to prickle uncomfortably as it raised a decibel. It sounded as though it was coming from the side of the ship, and she walked quickly in that direction.

As she took a step, her eyes absent-mindedly landed on Hook, whose stance was suddenly rigid. His gaze met hers, and she felt her insides constrict at what she saw: a strange mixture of dread and fear, something she'd seldom seen on the pirate. Even throughout their time in Neverland, he always maintained an air of indifference, his expression constantly schooled so as not to convey whatever his true feelings were towards a situation or threat.

Their eyes still locked, he walked in the direction she was heading so that they both ended up at the side of the ship. The inky black water revealed no answers, though Emma was sure the noise came from its depths.

She scrutinised the waves, peering desperately into the reflection of the stars.

There was a flicker of movement, the briefest glimpse of something shimmery, before she felt Hook grip her arm. He jerked her roughly backwards as he too stepped away from the banister.

Emma immediately turned to him, a question forming on her lips.

But she was silenced by the look of pure unadulterated fear that flickered briefly in his cerulean irises. He recognised whatever it was that was making the noise, and he was very obviously disturbed by what it entailed. Hook's jaw clicked as his eyes hardened, the icy blue solidifying into something darker.

"Get below deck, get your parents and tell David to grab the special weaponry I told him about. Grab yourself a sword too, do you understand?" the words were a rushed command, demanding but at the same time confident that she would execute the order without question. He pushed her roughly towards the hatch she had previously been heading towards and turned around, unknotting a seemingly pointless rope.

Emma stumbled for a second before springing quickly into action, the high-pitched screech still ringing across the deck.

She ran below deck, her footfalls heavy as she entered the room they were all sharing. They were all already getting out of bed, the sound from above deck having travelled into the cabins. Her parents levelled her with a groggy look of incredulity.

"What is going _on_ up there?" Mary Margaret inquired with a sigh, just before she finally seemed to register the way Emma appeared slightly panicked.

"What's wrong?" David quickly interceded, his demeanour significantly changing as the air shifted around them.

Regina and Gold had also straightened up and Emma let Hook's instructions flow freely from her lips, "Something's coming, I don't know what but Hook told me to tell you to get the special weapon he told you about?" she directed that towards David and then turned to the rest of them, "Get some weapons and get above deck."

She didn't wait for them to respond, running out of the room towards another cabin she knew held some swords and other weapons. Emma snatched a sword, feeling awkward despite her father's vain attempts at teaching her, and began running back above deck.

As she broke the surface, she heard as the screeching abruptly stopped and an eerie silence encased the ship.

Sword held aloft, Emma locked gazes with Hook who stood across the deck, his hands busy with the ropes. She jogged towards him, her eyes darting around the ship as she did, and watched his continued ministrations.

"What are you doing? What's going on?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm pulling up the sails," he answered absent-mindedly, now pulling harshly at one of the ropes. A clanking sound made her eyes snap heavenwards and she saw as the white sheets began to retract. It should have been impossible for one man to do – but Hook had already explained previously that the ship was enchanted and thus able to be controlled by one man.

She turned to him with wide eyes, "What? But won't we lose speed?"

His lips pulled into a thin line and he nodded once before glancing grimly up at her, "Better we move slower and fight than fast and have them torn to shreds."

Hook let go of the rope he had been fiddling with and strode to the other side of the deck where another rope ran in a simultaneous pattern to the one he had just disassembled. Emma followed him, feeling her nerves spike at the connotations of his statement, "Wait – what? What do you mean 'torn to shreds?' What are we fighting?" Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword, her arms holding it surprisingly steady. Hook didn't respond for a long moment, his concentration focussed on the thick rope in his deft hands.

Finally, though, as the smaller sails pulled upwards, he looked up through his lashes, the ice blue burning into her with an intensity she wasn't yet used to.

"Mermaids."

His answer was punctuated by the sound of the shaft opening and Mary Margaret, David and Regina joining them above deck. The prince held what appeared to be a large black cylindrical device with a strange bracelet in the centre. He walked confidently to where Emma and Hook had stood at the side and she watched as her father attached the strange weapon to the golden banister, fastening some kind of lock and checking it was in place before assessing its manoeuvrability.

It appeared to be some kind of small portable cannon and Emma was distantly aware of the admiration that swelled in her chest. Evidently, Hook knew what he was doing – a notion she still found herself swallowing with difficulty.

Mary Margaret had a bow looped over her shoulder and a sheath of arrows strapped diagonally cross her back, while Regina simply stood, rubbing her hands together. Gold entered after them, walking towards the Evil Queen to stand beside her as he too began rubbing his hands together and occasionally flicking outwards.

"Is it loaded?" Emma heard Hook yell to David, who gripped the handles of the cannon tightly.

He nodded and the blonde turned to face him, letting the sword drop fractionally.

"When the fighting starts, stay _away_ from the edge of the ship – try to stick as closely to the main mast as possible and never leave your back unattended. And do _not_ underestimate them at any point in time, I don't care if it looks dead; you skewer it to make sure." His words hung in the air for a long moment as Emma processed the instructions, already turning so her back faced the centre of the boat. She looked out to where David was situated and felt worry shoot through her hot and fast.

"What about David? Shouldn't he be back here?" Emma asked, glancing between her father and the pirate.

"He knows what he's doing," Hook replied without antagonism; he wasn't suggesting that she didn't know but rather that somewhere in the past month, the two men had discussed such a situation. Emma was oddly disconcerted by the idea of her father and the pirate captain having any private conversation, but brushed it off as her mother approached.

Mary Margaret had already drawn an arrow and positioned it in her bow pre-emptively.

Hook addressed her as soon as she was within earshot, "Get to the Quarterdeck. The railing and height makes it harder for the mermaids to mount it straight up, so they'll be diving onto the main deck first. Set up there and shoot anything that boards the ship and don't let them get to the Quarterdeck. If they get near the wheel, they'll destroy it and make it near-impossible for us to get around the island."

To Emma's surprise, her mother nodded and levelled the blonde with a look that encompassed concern and what she could only interpret as, 'take care of yourself.'

She nodded, returning the expression as the petite woman started jogging to the Quarterdeck.

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked suddenly, giving him a curious glance.

The sky was just beginning to lighten with the dawn of a new day, though the stars still twinkled in the greying expanse. He unsheathed his sword and turned to her, a strange look glinting in his eyes.

"Man the deck."

She pivoted so her back was facing Hook, and moved into the fighting stance David had taught her, sword held high and to her side, eyes habitually roaming her surroundings for any signs of intrusion. The entire deck was encapsulated in silence, the tension mounting to such a point that she was sure even a dull knife could slice through it. The waves continued to lap at the hull, the calming sound a strange contrast in light of whatever they were about to face.

Emma glanced briefly behind her to Hook and though she could only see his back, she could see the relaxed way he held himself – even preparing for a fight.

Suddenly, a loud shriek filled the air, and Emma turned around to face her side of the ship.

Hook's voice boomed through the brisk air, "Come now, ladies! It's rude to keep a man waiting!"

And then, like a whip cracking, the eerie moment broke and Emma felt the adrenaline begin its course through her body, rushing through her veins and crackling in her nerves. She gripped the sword tighter still, nearly dropping it in shock when she heard a colossal boom behind her.

Emma allowed herself a short second to steal a glance at the source of the violent thunder and was shocked to see her father shooting the cannon into the ocean. Water splashed up in response, soaking his shirt and wetting the deck.

Another boom sounded as David pulled some kind of trigger on the weapon and a primal and gut-wrenching roar gurgled up from the depths of the water.

Vaguely, she heard a dull thud behind her.

And then there was screeching, and it was coming from her side of the ship.

Emma turned, her eyes snapping quickly onto the strange metallic creature writhing around on the deck. Its skin was a strange gold-white, scales that looked like diamonds covering the lower half of its body. Her eyes roamed the creature in a second, taking note of the way the fin made scratches along the ship's wooden deck; the flimsy appearance of the strange iridescent flesh evidently a façade.

It had white hair and yellow eyes, the claws and teeth silver and sharpened to pinpoints.

Though terrifying, Emma wouldn't deny the mermaid had certain elements of beauty there, laced intricately into the petrifying features.

Water pooled around where the mermaid had landed and it immediately began slithering along the deck towards her, surprisingly fast for something with no legs – almost like a snake. Emma felt a small part of her shrivel up in fear but, in true Swan style, she suppressed it, shoving it down into the crevasse of emotions she didn't need or want.

Emma lifted her sword to strike as the mermaid approached, scratching roughly at the deck with its tail and claws, teeth snapping like a rabid animal. But before it could reach her, there was a soft whirring sound before an arrow sank into the mermaid's temple.

Emma turned to where her mother had already rotated to Hook's side, firing off two more arrows.

It was then that Emma noticed the two other mermaids that had jumped aboard on Hook's side. One with shocking pink skin and the other with deep blue scales and both lay dead on the deck, black blood seeping from their fatal wounds and onto the deck.

With the three mermaids dispatched, Emma sighed and lowered her weapon slightly.

Hook looked at her when he heard her breathy exhale and smirked mirthlessly, "Oh don't lower your weapon yet, darling. That was just the preamble." His sword glinted in the fading moonlight as he spun back around, ensuring his back was to her. She mirrored his movement, giving Mary Margaret a brief nod of appreciation as she did.

And he was right – ridiculously so.

Three bodies arced out of the sea, landing flat on the deck on a neat line. They eyed Emma scathingly, their hisses clear and potent with wrath. The middle one moved first, using its black claws and tail to propel itself forward. The other two followed in quick succession and Emma took a deep breath. One of the latter ones spied Regina and Gold and split off in their direction, sliding effortlessly across the deck towards them.

Emma only just had enough time to call to the two sorcerers before the black creature reached her,  
"Regina! Gold! _Your left_!"

The mermaid lifted its upper body into a position that strangely resembled the yoga pose, 'cobra.' Its teeth bared and upper lip pulled back, the mermaid raised its chest up, puffing up like a bird. She jumped just in time to avoid her legs being sliced as it flicked its tail around in an attempt to maim her.

Emma briefly glanced behind her to check Hook hadn't been dealt the blow she'd evaded, but he had moved closer to the edge of the ship, duelling three of the mermaids at once as David continued to fire into the water and Mary Margaret shot arrows left right and centre.

Emma turned back and swung her sword down and around, missing when the mermaid leaned awkwardly to the side. The one following her slithered up to its side and all at once, both mermaids were jumping at her.

She dodged and struck, simultaneously covering herself and delivering a number of blows. It was only when she finally landed a deep gash to the chest of the other one that it dropped to the ground with a sputtered breath and repulsive gurgle.

The black one noted its fallen comrade and screeched furiously, flying at Emma with more fervour than before and catching her arm. Its claws carved through the soft white skin on her right arm like silk, creating four deep gashes that elicited a cry of pain from the blonde. Anger bubbled up in her, a primal response to being dealt injury, and she backed towards the mast, her sword held straight out in front of her warningly. There was another thud and splash to her right, and from her peripheral vision she could see another silver mermaid had jumped aboard, automatically carrying its body in her direction.

The black mermaid still facing off with her smiled cruelly and hissed, a low sound that made the hairs on the back of Emma's neck stand up.

Blood seeped from the wound on her arm and she let herself glance at it, immediately regretting the decision when she felt bile rise up in her throat. Emma rolled her shoulders, ignoring the pain that burned her upper arm with the movement of her muscles, and made a faux step to the right, swinging her sword around her left to catch the mermaid as it lunged for where Emma had falsely been headed.

The metal slashed into the black mermaid's side and, without hesitation, Emma brought the weapon down again on its new companion, hitting the newly arrived silver mermaid on the shoulder.

Unfortunately though, while the wound was of comparable depth, it ensured her blade became lodged in the damp flesh. Emma tried to pull the sword from the silver mermaid's shoulder, wincing when she felt the sickening sound of metal grating up against something unidentifiable.

The black mermaid saw the opening and, with the blonde momentarily occupied, jumped at her. It nocked Emma to the ground, landing on top of her and disarming her in the process. Its ebony scales bit into her skin, pricking her legs as she held them on the flat underside of the fin, hoping desperately that the mermaid wouldn't think to flick it down onto her ankles, knowing that doing so would leave her without feet.

Its black eyes burned into her with unparalleled hatred, and she could feel the dark blood from the wound in her side seeping onto her shirt.

Emma heaved up, a futile effort as the mermaid crushed her with its surprisingly heavy weight, holding down her arms securely with its claws latched into the wood. The mermaid bared its teeth, the sharpness of each tooth abruptly registering in the blonde's mind.

Even without its tail and claws, the mermaid could still kill her – and Emma had no doubt that the creature had no qualms about tearing into human flesh with its own teeth.

The mermaid reared its head upwards, opening its mouth wide.

There was a sickening squelch and watched as the black head descended down, though now the mouth was slack. Noting the way the weight was suddenly limp, she pushed roughly at the scaly body, watching as it rolled off of her lifelessly.

Emma scrambled up, internally blanching when she felt her shirt stick to her stomach.

Her eyes flickered up from the shiny black body of the mermaid with the knife in its back to where Hook's hand was still slightly outstretched, having thrown the weapon. Their eyes locked and she saw him nod once before turning around to dispatch a pale preen mermaid that had jumped aboard.

Emma walked shakily over to the dead black mermaid, pulling out the knife and holding it deftly in her hand. Strangely, she felt more comfortable holding the smaller weapon and, shaking off the fear that still resided from her close encounter with the scaled creature; she turned to find a new foe.

Regina and Gold were sending bursts of purple magic at the two mermaids that attacked them, holding them off in the hopes that Mary Margaret would target them soon. But, as Emma noted, her mother was greatly preoccupied by the four mermaids battling David and Hook.

The blonde ran towards the two sorcerers, running parallel along the side of the ship to come up behind the mermaids. It was risky, especially with their razor-sharp tails, but she'd rather have the element of surprise than take a side-on approach. When she was a metre away from the two mermaids, Emma jumped up and landed on the flat side of the left mermaid's tail, planting her feet firmly on each side of the fin as she threw the large knife down. It hit the creature just under her shoulder blades and Emma shoved the blade downwards until it went limp under her.

She turned just in time to lean backwards, avoiding the angry swipe of the other mermaid's tail as it swished dangerously through the air.

It would have hit Regina and Gold, but both sorcerers shoved back with a burst of purple magic, forcing the tail to stop as if it had hit some kind of wall.

Emma pulled the weapon roughly out of the dead mermaid and stood up, watching as it slithered away from the two sorcerers and followed her across the deck. She was nearly at the mast when a dull thus sounded to her right and she gasped at the closeness of the latest intruder.

This mermaid was red and gold, its tail reminiscent of flames licking up to her waist. Emma had no time to react as it purchased a strong grip on her ankles and pulled her down hard. She fell, crying out in protest as she hit the deck. Her head landed on the solid surface with a loud bang and everything was suddenly hazy as she loosely felt the thing pull her along the saturated wood. Despite her grogginess, Emma knew she had to get out the mermaids grip and so began pulling at anything and anything in her reach to stop herself.

She even sliced her hand grasping the sharp tail of one of the fallen mermaids.

"Swan!" Hook's voice bellowed through the air, and she tilted her head to watch upside down as David heaved the cannon around and aimed for the mermaid following behind them. The cannonball shot through the air and exploded on the mermaid trailing Emma and the scarlet one.

The latter creature screeched, its ruby coloured eyes narrowing at the leather-clad man now running across the deck towards them.

Emma felt herself pulled roughly towards the edge of the ship, cold thin arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her up so that she sat in front of the mermaid as it balanced precariously on the golden banister, back facing the cold Neverland Ocean. Hook was still sprinting towards her with David following swiftly behind, Mary Margaret now attempting to aim an arrow at the red mermaid as it used its tail to shove the deck away.

And for a terrifying second, they teetered on the edge of the deck, Hook's icy blue eyes the last thing Emma really locked onto before she felt herself falling backwards through the air.

The arms around her waist never relinquished, even as they hit the frigid water and she stiffened at the painful pricking of her nerves. However, while the oceans ice water stung her skin, it proved an adequate method of sobering her dazed mind, sharpening the cloudy thoughts to a pinpoint as she registered with painful clarity what her situation was and what it might entail if she didn't get out of it.

Emma immediately began to pull and scratch viciously at the mermaids fastened arms, digging her nails into the strangely tough flesh and ripping in an attempt to undo them. Just near her ear, she heard a sweet, melodic and patently cruel voice.

"Stop fighting, sweetheart, or I'll rip your heart from your chest."

She turned her head to the side, and felt her eyes widen when she realised the voice had come from the red mermaid holding her.

Other voices perked up around her as the mermaid crushed her to its chest, still moving languidly down through the water.

"Why didn't you just kill her on the boat, Andromeda? What have I said about playing with your food?" a pale blue mermaid purred as it glided up to float beside Emma. She could just feel the beginnings of pain in her lungs, a sensation of bloating encasing her head at a rapid and aching pace. Emma shoved backwards at the mermaid holding her, ignoring the prior threat and nearly gasping in surprise when it let her go.

She swam backwards and away from the two mermaids, fear creeping up on her as she noted their cruel grins in the dark water. The glow of their skin lighting up their faces so, even in the dark depths of the ocean, they could be seen.

The red one swam forward first, gripping her ankle and pulling her back down with such force that water was all but forced up Emma's nose.

She coughed and vainly attempted to retain as much oxygen as she could, but her breath was already spent, and she felt the water begin to cloud in around her. Her head felt like it was about to burst.

"I would say I'm sorry about this, but I'm really not," the mermaid droned in amusement, opening her mouth and gripping Emma's shoulders.

She closed her eyes tight, images flashing before her eyes with a myriad of emotions: her parents, Henry, her friends, Hook, Henry, Henry, Henry. She felt pain and grief well up in her chest, crushing it as she realised she would not save him, she'd never even gotten close. She only hoped that their group would go on, that her parents would understand that it was what she wanted them to do.

Emma finally opened her mouth, allowing the water to enter her lungs as she waited for the sharp teeth to puncture her skin and tear.

It was surprisingly painless as the salty water filled her mouth and moved into her lungs, filling them and preventing her from breathing in anymore. The pounding inside her head subsided and she felt the nerves of her fingertips become numb. It didn't occur to her that the mermaid hadn't yet bit into her, nor did it strike her as odd when she felt a softer, warmer grip on her upper arm. A broad arm wound its way around her waist, holding her gently and firmly all at once. She didn't know what happened after that, because everything was dark and numb and warm. It was a long moment of pure, blissful nothingness.

And then a heaving pain in her desiccated lungs, a soft and continuous pumping on her chest, warm lips pressed against hers as air was forced into her, the feeling of retching as water made its way up and out of her mouth.

Emma felt the spinning world come to an abrupt halt, settling into place as memories flooded her mind. She coughed violently, opening her eyes briefly to icy blue irises and damp black hair. But as she continued to heave, the arms around her changed and when she opened her eyes again, it wasn't ice blue eyes that welcomed her, but soft leafy green and powder blue. Mary Margaret and David were both dripping wet, their eyes red from something other than seawater. She felt a strong hand move to her wrist and grab her hand, as she was lifted into a more inclined position.

The water came up through her throat with each cough and splutter until her throat was ragged from the effort.

She looked around the deck to where the bodies of the mermaids still lay, their lifeless forms sending a shiver up Emma's spine as she recalled the melodic and twisted voices that belonged to them in the water. Her eyes eventually drifted around to Regina and Gold, who were both engrossed in conversation, and then to Hook. He leaned on the banister of the stairs leading to the Quarterdeck, his eyes locked onto her form with and emotion she couldn't quite place.

"We thought we'd lost you," Mary Margaret said, relief flooding her tone.

Emma smiled tightly, "Not just yet," she replied, shakily pushing herself into a sitting position. David helped her to her feet, and she looked down at her saturated grey singlet, the black stain from the mermaid's blood covering the lower left side of her shirt.

She shivered, aware that though the sun was now making an appearance on the horizon, it was still brisk in the early morning air. Footfalls sounded to her right and she turned to see Hook approached, shrugging off his heavy black coat. David quickly stepped forward and took the coat from the pirate, turning around and draping it over Emma's shoulders.

It smelt like rum and spice and salt water, and she resisted the urge to nuzzle into the still warm fabric. She pulled it tighter around her, ensuring her expression was unfazed as she did so, even though her mind hummed appreciatively at the body warmth that still radiated from within the coat.

Hook's voice drew her from her thoughts and she looked up to watch him heading for the helm.

"We need to get moving – the mermaids are vengeful creatures and they won't take long to re-group. We need to get to warmer waters," he said, moving up towards the great wooden wheel and grasping it with what could only be described as familiarity. Emma shrugged her arms into the sleeves so it wouldn't fall off as she followed the pirate up to the Quarterdeck.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Get David to let the sails down, we're going to try to outrun them to the Easter shores. Mermaids hate warm water so they won't head that far East. Get everyone else to help you throw the carcasses overboard," he ordered, pulling his appendage back to the wheel. Emma nodded and jogged to the main deck, imparting the command to her father and moving with her mother to the nearest body.

"Watch the fins – they're sharp," she commented, grasping under the arm of the blue mermaid they had chosen as her mother mirrored her movements on the other arm. Mary Margaret nodded and the two women dragged the body across the deck, shoving it over the edge and into the deep blue ocean with a resounding splash.

The wind around them picked up as the ship picked up speed and Emma looked up to see that David had lowered the sails, the white material arcing outwards as the wind pushed the vessel forward through the waves.

Her father immediately began assisting them with pulling the mermaids' bodies off the deck. When the main deck was clear of fleshy debris – save for the scattered black blood stains and sharp indented lines from the tails – Emma headed back up to where Hook was steering the ship with a look of concentration etched into his features.

"How much longer until we're out of range?" she asked, looking out at the ocean as if it were a stalking predator.

"With the wind on our side? About half an hour," he answered stoically, shifting the wheel ever-so-slightly to the right. Hook glanced at her from his peripheral vision and he sighed.

"You should get below deck and treat your wounds. I'll inform you all when we're in the clear," he said. Emma realised rather brusquely that her wounds were still bleeding, looking down at her upper arm and her hand where bright red blood was beginning to seep once again. She nodded, pivoting on her heel and heading below deck with her mother.

* * *

Exactly half an hour later, Emma sat in one of the unoccupied cabins. Her clothes were dry and the warmth of the day was beginning to take its toll, having forced her to take off Hook's coat and set it down beside her. A white bandage encased her right upper arm, wrapped tightly around the four claw marks. Mary Margaret had cleaned and dressed the wound, promptly moving on to David who bore a number of scratches on his arms and legs from the mermaids.

She pulled her hands together in front of her, clasping them together gently and hissing when she realised she'd forgotten to show her mother the deep cut on her left hand from where she'd attempted to use a mermaid's tail as leverage – a bad decision, really. Her blonde hair fell in a curtain around her face, dangling down as she sighed. Her throat still felt raw and her lungs still ached – all in all, the aftereffects of drowning weren't great.

She touched her lips faintly, recalling the feel of them being pressed against someone else's. She hadn't asked her parents if either of them had conducted the CPR, partly because she didn't want to know if her mother or father had put their lips to hers and partly because she felt like she already knew the answer. She vividly remembered waking up the first time and seeing ice blue eyes and raven coloured hair.

It made sense that he would have been the one to do it – after all, he was a pirate. She could only assume that he had lived on the seas for most of his life. Such a life surely entailed certain skills; such as CPR.

So why were her lips still tingling every time she remembered the feel of the soft lips pressed firmly against hers?

She looked up when she heard the wooden floorboards shift under weight and her gaze landed on Hook's form in the doorway. He walked in, his arms folded across his chest as he looked down at her with something resembling concern.

"We're out of range. I'm going to take a look at the maps and discern a new route to Henry's destination," he said, turning and moving to walk away. He hadn't even taken a step when she called him back.

"Hook."

The pirate revolved on the spot, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, princess?" his voice was slight strained, his stance less relaxed. He almost looked indignant.

And she couldn't remember why she'd called him back – if there even was a reason.

He sighed impatiently, "You realise that I actually need to form a new route if we're to find your son."

Her eyes narrowed and she momentarily stammered, "I know – I just… forget it."

Hook's face softened and he took a step closer, his eyes drifting down her form to her hand where he frowned. She was rubbing the bloodied area around her palm, carefully tracing the skin around the gash.

"I thought I told you to get those wounds dressed," he commented, already moving to one of the cupboards behind Emma. He leaned over the chair and pulled out a small wooden box, kneeling in front of her and opening it deftly.

She shrugged apathetically, "I forgot."

Hook's mouth pulled into a tight admonishing line and he set the box down beside him and pulled out a flask of amber liquid. Emma winced pre-emptively, remembering the beanstalk when he had done near the same thing. However, rather than simply pop the lid and pour it on, he pulled pulled out a piece of white cloth.

"Wet this with that," he instructed handing her both items and turning away to pull out a roll of white linen. She did as she was told and handed him the damp cloth.

He reached forward and grabbed her wrist, placing it gently on his knee, palm-up. She watched his face carefully as he began to dab at the raw skin, wincing and hissing when the alcohol touched the bloodied flesh beneath her skin.

"Well this is Déjà vu," Emma commented lightly, indifferently, her eyes flitting down to her clean skin. A chuckle rumbled somewhere deep in his chest and he unrolled the linen, holding it half with his teeth as he wrapped it the first time around her hand. He continued the ministration until the bandage was secure around her palm and, just like the last time, used his mouth to help tie the knot.

As his breath brushed the skin of her hand, Emma felt her breath catch in her throat momentarily.

Finished, he put her hand back in her lap and stood up, grabbing the wooden box and taking something out before placing it in the cupboard again. Emma saw that he'd kept the flask of rum out and watched as he picked it up.

"Need a drink?" she asked, distantly aware that she was the only one attempting to make conversation for some unknown reason.

"You have no idea," he sighed, picking up the flask and lifting it to his lips.

There was silence again and Emma found his refusal to respond slightly aggravating, her hackles ruffling marginally in the tense stillness that followed. He took a long sip of the alcohol, clearing his throat when he lowered it and his eyes landed on her.

"Are you upset with me?" she asked abruptly, her expression betraying nothing but idle curiosity.

He didn't bother lying, "Yes," he answered as he took another long swig of the rum. Emma stood up and pulled the flask away, holding it behind her as a frown marred her forehead.

"Why?"

"Give me back the rum, darling," he replied simply, reaching around with his hand in an attempt to grab it but she held it at arm's length, eyes flashing as she silently demanded his attention. When his ice blue eyes locked onto hers, she was surprised to see unrelenting anger hiding just beneath the irises, currently shrouded by a façade of boredom.

"Why?" Emma repeated.

"It's been a tough day," he sighed nonchalantly.

"Lie."

"Give me the rum."

"No."

The anger seeped slowly into his face, tinting the handsome features as he reached behind her again in an attempt to snatch the flask. But Emma held her ground, stepping back with the flask so he couldn't grab it.

"Bloody hell Swan, just give me the fucking rum," he growled, stalking forward again and reaching for it.

"_Why are you angry at me?_"Emma nearly yelled, leaning closer to ensure he heard the fervency in her voice.

She could almost feel the tension snap.

"_Because I told you to stay away from the edge and you didn't bloody well listen!_" he roared, uncaring if the rest of the ship heard. He took a step forward as he continued speaking, forcing Emma to step back until her legs hit the bench lining the wall. She heard more than saw the flask of rum fall from her hand in surprise, landing on the wooden deck and spilling the auburn contents onto the floor.

"I told you not to leave your back unattended and the amount of times I saw you with your back out in the open just waiting for a willing mermaid – you nearly died, Swan! Do you have _any_ idea how that might have affected this entire mission?" he boomed, his mouth opening as if he were going to add to the question but then closing as he decided not to. His hand and hook landed on either side of her head so she was trapped in his presence, his blue eyes wild and furious as they raked over her face.

"I didn't do it on purpose! I was trying to help –" she tried, her voice rising with anger.

"Getting yourself killed isn't going to _help_ anyone!" he countered in a resounding boom.

"I know that!"

"I doubt you do!"

Emma groaned loudly in frustration, "_I'm_ the one who nearly died – why are _you_ the one getting upset about it?"

"Because _I_ care!" he responded, his words hanging in the air as his breath danced across her face. Emma frowned, her eyes darting between his in search of something to hang on to.

"Why would you care whether I live or die?" she asked, quieter this time as the tension began mounting again, making the air between them almost too dense to breathe. He barked out a mirthless laugh, shaking his head slightly as he dropped his arms from where they'd leaned against the wall behind her.

"I spent more time than I care to recall trying to leave this place and kill Rumplestiltskin. And here I am sailing back into its heart with him as my guest of honor. Would I be here if I didn't care?... For someone who's supposed to be observant, you're bloody oblivious sometimes."

He turned around and she expected him to leave, but he walked to a small cabinet beside the door, opening it and taking out something wrapped in brown cloth. Hook turned back around and approached her again, unwrapping the long thin object as he walked.

When he finally took it out and handed it to Emma, it appeared to be a sheathed sword. But it was shorter – similar to the one she'd handled whilst fighting the mermaids.

He nodded down at it, "I noticed you were more comfortable with the saber."

She shrugged, the sudden change in direction of their conversation giving her mental whiplash as she struggled to catch up to his train of thought.

"Yeah – yeah, no, I liked it better than the sword," she murmured, scrutinising the delicate crafting of the sheath before pulling out the curved metal blade. It glinted in the soft golden light from the gas lamps and she looked up to meet his eye just as he spoke again, his rueful gaze locked onto the blade.

"Keep it. It was Baelfire's," he said gently, his deep voice raspy.

"What?"

"Henry's father. That saber was his," he repeated pointing at the weapon in her hands with a half-hearted motion. She looked down at it again, noticing the way the red sheath was covered in a complex pattern of gold and green lines that swirled and curled their way up the shaft. There was a short strap hanging from the side of the sheath where she could attach it to her belt, she supposed.

Emma gripped the handle, extracting it from the scabbard and studying the blade as it glinted threateningly in the lamp's light. Her eyes lifted up to Hook's and she noticed he was watching her as she put the weapon back into its case.

"Thanks," she finally said, still holding the blade but pulling it closer so it sat in her lap.

His response came in the form of a curt nod, his eyes betraying nothing but a spark of nearly unreadable emotion. It almost looked like he was trying to hold himself back, restrain an urge to do or say something. His eyes dropped down to her side and she followed his line of sight to the tangled black mass that was his leather coat. She put the saber down on her other side, picking up the soft material and looking up at him.

"Thanks for that too," Emma said, offering it to him with outstretched arms.

He met her gaze briefly, taking the coat off her hands and draping it over his left arm. Silence descended in the room as a noiseless game of cat and mouse was played out in the air between them, neither knowing what to do in the very sudden very stifling atmosphere around them. She felt like his admittance of care was something more, like something had inadvertently snapped between them, bringing something new and alien to the forefront of their complex relationship. The spark had been brought forth, igniting embers inside of Emma that she was sure she had stamped out the second Henry went missing. But, as they continued the silent exchange, she felt the blackened char glowing orange and a feeling of... what was it? She couldn't place it, and something small inside of her told her she didn't want to.

Because things couldn't change. She had to stay focused.

Emma stood up, grabbing the blade as she did and stepping around Hook.

"Let me know when we're closer to the island," she murmured over her shoulder, leaving the pirate alone in the room.

Had she stayed, she would have seen as he bent down and picked up the opened flask, fiddling with it for a long moment as his own thoughts strayed to the Swan girl, and rubbed his forehead exasperatedly.

* * *

**Review? **


	2. Chapter 2

_What's gonna kill you is the second part_

* * *

Emma shoved roughly at the deep green branch impeding her path, stepping over a moss-covered log and darting to avoid the foliage as it whipped back. The sky was still orange, streaked with rays of pink and gold, and yet she could feel the heat of the day already wearing on her. Sweat dampened her brow, and she frowned in irritation as another bug landed on her arm. Smacking it away with a sharp slap, Emma looked up to Hook's form at the front of their line.

She could hear the footsteps of three people behind her and, combined with the leather-clad back of the pirate, her mind was suddenly pondering the previous day. The mermaid attack had evidently been a catalyst for Gold, prompting him to the realisation that he needed to separate from the group.

That was putting it lightly.

"_What do you mean? You can't just leave! What do you expect to do on your own?" Emma said indignantly, following the sorcerer across the deck as he made his way to a small row-boat he'd spent the last ten minutes packing with small portions of supplies. Gold ignored her though and continued his path across the ship's main deck. David chose that moment to join in, walking so that he stood in the older man's path with his hands held up in an imploring fashion._

"_Gold, you can't seriously think you splitting off on your own is going to help Henry," he said diplomatically._

_Regina was below deck, still sleeping off the effects of excessive magic use in a land that basically had her abilities in chains. Tugging at them had rendered her nearly comatose. _

_Mary Margaret and Hook simply watched the situation as it escalated, the latter with a look of mixed loathing and disgust. As Emma glanced at him, still following Gold, she was unsurprised to see the undercurrent of expectation, like he'd known all along that this would happen. It made her suddenly very angry and she turned on Gold with flaming eyes just as the sorcerer stepped precisely around David and spoke._

"_I don't expect any of you to understand, but I know what I'm doing and being on this godforsaken ship with two well-meaning royals, an evil queen in rehabilitation, a bastard pirate who wants me dead and a saviour with an uncanny knack for failure is not getting Henry anywhere close to being saved," he countered bluntly, levelling each of them with a hard stare. His offhand comment suddenly registered to Emma and she narrowed her eyes at him icily, approaching him without a slither of hesitation. David attempt to grasp her arm but she jerked away from him, walking until she was nearly toe-to-toe with the Dark One._

"_What do you mean 'uncanny knack for failure?'" she hissed scathingly, glaring at him. _

_He barked a cruel laugh, "Don't be daft, dearie – you and I both know what I'm referring to."_

_She felt something inside of her wince at the comment, like a slap in the face as the subtext was broadcasted by the look in his eyes: Neal. Gold blamed her for Neal, had blamed her since the moment he found out that she was the one who'd held onto him at the edge of the portal. It didn't matter that Neal was the one who had let go. It didn't matter that she had mourned more than anyone – in his mind, she was the one to be held accountable._

_Emma shook her head, "If you care about your grandson at all, you'll help us save him." _

_It was all she could muster as she stared him down, the antagonism between the pair near-tangible as it wafted around in the air surrounding them. She watched as his eyes hardened and for a short moment, she saw something akin to regret, but it passed all too soon and was replaced with flagrant condescension._

_His upper lip curled back as he hissed, "How do you expect to save your son when you couldn't even save his father?"_

_His comment hit her like a slap to the face and she'd barely begun to process a scathing retort when footsteps beside her alerted her to an approaching presence. She heard her father's voice and assumed it was him coming in to defend her, as was his parental duty. But, when she looked in the direction of the man now standing slightly in front of her with his hand brushing the hilt of his sword, she was surprised to see Hook. His back was to her so she couldn't see his face, but she was sure it spelled murder._

"_Get off my ship. Now."_

_His words were ground out like glass and Emma watched him carefully, acutely aware of the existing feud between the two men, dormant or not. Gold's eyes flickered between the pirate and the saviour shrewdly, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips._

"_With pleasure," he replied with a half-hearted bow before jumping over the side and into the small row boat with a gentle thud. _

_There was silence on the main deck as the absence of the Dark One was felt – more specifically, the absence of the all-knowing power that seemed to follow his very being, filling up the atmosphere he inhabited and instantly making it glow dark with unfathomable reservoirs of magic. There was a long moment before Hook turned to face Emma, his eyes burning into her as his actions resounded in her head. With the memory of their close encounter still fresh in her mind, Emma felt as though the atmosphere was suddenly stifling, even though they were separated by a good metre._

_Without another word, she turned around and walked towards the hatch that led below deck, ignoring the advances of her parents as they reached for her and called her name beseechingly._

Emma restrained the urge to kick something as she walked across the roots and leaves. And yet, though she was furious at him for leaving them, she was oddly curious as to what he thought he could do. She had been under the impression that Hook was the most knowledgeable about the strangely beautiful and lethal realm – but apparently Gold was familiar enough to risk his life by going solo.

The sun had just been beginning its ascent past the horizon when their small row-boat had begun paddling towards the golden sands of the shore. The enchanted globe had indicated that Henry and his captors were still on this part of the island when they'd released the anchor. It was the first time in weeks that they'd actually arrived at a landmark in time – every other, by the time they arrived, had been vacated, leaving only the remains of food and a charcoal pit to indicate past inhabitancy.

As it turned out, they had to walk about twice as far as they would have if the mermaids had not disturbed their original path. Emma shivered involuntarily as she recalled the scaled creatures and, in particular, the taunting voices as she drowned. The blonde had already asked Hook why they hadn't anticipated them, knowing his understanding of the land to be better than anyone else's. He hadn't known, excusing himself after a lame excuse about the land constantly changing.

Nevertheless, the group had been forced to land on a different part of the island, thus doubling the distance of their journey and, by extension, their time frame. Furthermore, the path itself was strenuous – constantly shifting inclines and declines of varying steepness.

Hook had already explained a need to take an alternative route to the spot since the Lost Ones frequented their paths too often and any spotting would only result in (a) a confrontation or (b) losing their only lead in weeks. Neither was an impressive option, though Emma felt a strange desire for the former.

Her muscles were coiled and tense, had been so since the moment they left Storybrooke. And nothing helped, not even their brief exertion the other day when the mermaids had attacked.

Emma cursed herself as she nearly tripped, her mind suddenly brought back to the root of her irritability. Her green eyes flickered up to his back, and she remembered every fine detail of their brief and heated exchange. How his breath had felt as it tickled her hand, a phantom wisp blowing on her thumb-knuckle, how his eyes had sparked like a match being lit when she'd taken the rum, how he smelt when his face was a mere inch away; a strange and intoxicating mixture of spice and sea and rum, mingled with something that was completely and uniquely _him_.

And then came the memories of the moments before the mermaids attack. She didn't want to ponder the vexing thoughts that began to rise out of the recesses of her mind like vines crawling through cracks in a brick wall when she remembered his admission of guilt and how it had struck something deep within her, like plucking a note of a guitar that had long been unheard.

Emma shook her head. She had already wasted too much time trying to sort him out, nail his identity, put a tag on him. But he was too murky, too blurred around the edges. And every time she thought she had an idea about him, he'd turn around and unknowingly contradict it.

_She'd climbed the beanstalk with Casanova and found a gentleman at the top. _

_She'd assumed him a selfish bastard and witnessed a brave idiot._

_She'd restrained a loathsome bandit and was abandoned by a wounded man._

_She'd fought with a ruthless pirate and left a man willing to risk his life for a heart._

_She'd knocked out a vengeful man and was saved by a redeemable soul._

Everything he did was so inconsistent, so unpredictable, so utterly and infuriatingly spontaneous; she wondered if he ever surprised himself.

She was drawn from her thoughts when she ran into his arm, a small grunt escaping her lips as the breath was momentarily knocked out of her. His arm jutted out to the side, a signal she should have realised was to keep them back. Emma looked up at him, opening her mouth to question him when he put a finger to his lips, obviously seeing her movements from his peripheral vision.

She frowned and turned to face the direction he was facing. There was nothing there, or at least _she_ saw nothing there. Her parents and Regina had caught up to them and were shifting their weight impatiently as they waited for Hook to continue walking.

Emma looked up to study Hook's face and frowned.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, scanning the area in front of them for some indication of why he'd abruptly stopped.

Hook was silent for a long moment, his eyes unfocused as he appeared to listen more intently. She was about to ask again when he cursed under his breath and looked at her from his peripheral vision, his voice coming out in a barely audible whisper.

"Don't run and, whatever you do, don't underestimate them."

Emma frowned, giving him a questioning and slightly offended look before she caught sight of movement in the bushes. She peered into the greenery, trying to identify the source of the shaking leaves when a human silhouette entered her line of sight. A young man, a boy really; dirty, wearing rags, matted blonde hair and a scar marred face. He carried a large club and swung it over his shoulder as he approached.

She felt Hook tense beside her and looked around, quite abruptly registering the group of ten or so other boys that had emerged from the trees and bushes, their appearance near-identical to the first one.

It was with a shiver down her spine and sudden shot of adrenaline that she realised who they were.

The Lost Boys.

As if reading her mind, she felt Hook's hand grasp her wrist tightly, peering at her meaningfully without turning his head. She bit down on her tongue, her lips drawing into a thin line as she pulled herself up to stand taller, setting her shoulders and glaring at the boys who approached, their weapons drawn.

"Hook," the blonde one Emma had noticed first said, striding to a stop five metres from them, swinging his club around so it lay across his shoulders. He draped his arms over each end, the length of it behind his neck.

"Felix," Hook replied in a sharp tone, appraising the boy coldly.

The other lost boys had stopped, forming a circle around their group. Emma could feel her father bristle behind her as he drew out his sword slowly, the sound of the metal grating up against the sheath an oddly familiar sound by now.

Hook glanced behind him and gave David an almost indiscernible shake of his head, to which the prince responded by lowering his sword fractionally, still on the defensive. Mary Margaret clutched her bow tightly, clearly ready should the rabid boys decide to strike.

Emma's attention was brought back to the leader of their newest threat when his voice hissed across the space between them, like a snake sliding up her arm and into her ear. She found the sound of his voice disconcerting.

"It's been a while," he commented dryly, before cocking his head to the side and appraising Emma.

He scanned the rest of their group briefly and turned back to Hook, just as the pirate replied, "Indeed, it has. I see not much has changed – you're still Pan's pet mutt."

Felix's eyes narrowed marginally and he smiled without mirth, the sharpness unhidden in his eyes.

"And you're still heading up lost causes, I see," he said somewhat knowingly, and Emma could swear she saw the blonde boy glance at her. Hook tensed, his hand retracting from around her wrist to touch threateningly on the hilt of his sword. She hadn't even realised he'd still been holding it. Silence rang deafeningly throughout the clearing, the only sound the ominous clicking of the insects and the occasional bird call. Eventually though, Felix swung the club back around and pointed to their group.

"Pan's getting sick of having to move around, you know," he said with the movement, dropping the tip to touch the ground and leaning on the weapon lazily.

"And, pray tell, why does he keep moving?" Hook retorted smoothly.

Felix smirked, "Don't play dumb, _Pirate_," he spat the word venomously, "You and I both know he has eyes _everywhere_."

"So why are you here?"

Emma watched the exchange between the man and boy quietly, carefully, taking note of the way Hook's eyes flashed angrily as he studied the boy in front of him, an emotion Emma couldn't quite place glinting in the icy blue depths. A voice in the back of her mind whispered untold history, bad blood, a time and place she didn't know.

So she stayed silent, until Felix's voice caught her attention.

"Because Pan doesn't want to run anymore but he's willing to be generous because of the favour you did him all that time ago." _Favour? What favour?_ Emma asked silently, her eyes drifting down to his clenched fist. But Felix just kept talking, unperturbed by the obvious fire roaring beneath Hook's stony façade, "We know you want the boy."

Felix's eyes snapped onto Emma and she tried to convey as much loathing in her glare as she could, staring him down on the spot and wishing it were possible for looks to have lethal effects.

"And that makes _you_ Pan's enemy... He's willing to let you live… if you leave."

"_No_," Emma felt the word come out of her mouth before she could stop it, the one syllable resounding with so much vehemence, she almost felt primal saying it, like a lioness raising its hackles. She immediately expected Hook to turn to her with a scolding look and an admonishing comment but none came. He stood taller and it took a moment to resonate that he agreed with her, and that he wasn't backing down.

Felix raised an eyebrow, and looked between Emma and Hook, "Are you sure about that?" His question was directed at the pirate, a condescending edge to his tone as he inquired, "Is that _your_ final answer?"

And strangely, she didn't doubt him once as barely a second passed before Hook answered, in a tone that was a near-replica of her own, "Yes."

Felix sighed, bringing the club up and holding it lengthways in his two hands, studying it momentarily as the tension mounted. Finally though, he looked up, his pale green eyes glinting threateningly as he whistled low and loud.

A signal to attack.

Killian unsheathed his sword at almost the exact same moment Emma drew out her saber, both pivoting to face the young men charging at them. She heard beside her the familiar sound of Mary Margaret shooting off arrows and noted in her peripheral vision how the woman was aiming for their legs and arms – wounding but not killing them. David grunted somewhere behind her and she didn't want to risk turning around to check on Regina, but judging by the strange smoke smell in the air, she gathered the woman was throwing small fire balls.

Emma focused on the two boys sprinting at her, holding the saber at her side and crouching low. One of the boys was faster than the other and reached her with a two-metre lead. He held a small dagger and swiped at her unceremoniously, a move she only just managed to dodge before throwing her spare fist forward to hit him in the chest.

He grunted in pain and tried again, his friend catching up to try and take Emma's other side. She flicked her weapon to her right, cutting the newly arrived one as she ducked below a heavy handed hit. She felt his dagger come down on her bandaged arm as he used the momentum to push downwards, reopening the wound and eliciting a brief yelp of pain from the blonde. Emma ignored the urge to check her new injury but instead retreated a step, coming into contact with a familiar leather-clad back as she did.

One of the boys was marginally faster than the other and so Emma deflected his blow first, hitting him in the face with the back of her palm and turning to the other. He was already swinging his sword up and around to hit her in the side, a blow that would surely hit its mark with her saber still occupied by the other boy. Emma felt her insides clench as she saw the blade gain momentum through the air, about to make red ribbons out of the skin at her waist.

But, before it could touch her skin, there was the distinct sound of metal meeting metal and Emma looked down to where a silver hook held the blade at bay. She didn't have time to glance at the person attached to the appendage as the boy she was holding off shimmied his blade from their parry and tried to strike again.

Emma, oddly certain that the other boy would be occupied until she was free, took only a moment to dispatch the Lost Boy dueling her. And, as his back hit the dirt, she turned to watch as Hook delivered a harsh blow to the other boy's head, sending him to the ground.

He met her eyes briefly before immersing himself in the battle once more, no shortage of fighting partners just yet. She watched as he immediately engaged three boys at once, fending them off effortlessly in a dance of two and fro as he took and parried blows. Emma walked towards his position and was about to turn around, involuntarily covering his back, when her eyes locked onto a fourth boy trying to sneak up on Hook's side.

He hadn't seen Emma yet and she waited until he was about a metre away to engage him. The boy had pulled his sword back and was about to push it forward, where it would surely bury itself in the pirate's ribs, when she struck out her saber, catching it and pushing back so he stumbled.

A strange and unfamiliar emotion bubbled up inside of Emma as she considered what might have happened if she hadn't seen the boy.

This kid, this _child_, was seemingly unfazed by the idea of killing someone – not just anyone, but _Hook_. He would have happily driven his sword into the heart of the man responsible for all their lives; the only man who'd ever come back for her.

She didn't want to itemize the feeling that settled over her as she eyed off the boy, watching with satisfaction as he looked in her direction with surprise followed quickly by amusement. He straightened up and Emma took on a fighting stance, stepping closer and keeping a keen eye on the unguarded space to her left.

The boy laughed and she took the opportunity, exploiting his foolish assumption that, based on her gender, he had the upper hand. Apparently Pan was raising a bunch of misogynists in this little summer camp.

Her saber connected with his sword and she manoeuvred her wrist so it twisted the blade around and out of his grip.

He stopped laughing after that and glared at her, shuffling backwards in search of a weapon.

She only just saw out of her peripheral vision as the one named Felix finally stood up from where he'd leaned against a tree and began walking leisurely towards her. Emma watched as he made his way to the newly unarmed boy, her eyes flitting between them as the blonde one looked down at her opposition with unbridled condescension.

"Spire, what have I told you about underestimating based on appearance?" he said in a sickeningly sweet voice, just before his fist struck out and connected with the boy's stomach. The boy keeled over and collapsed as Felix turned to face Emma. As she tilted her body to face him head-on, she levelled him with a scathing look, watching as he crossed the space between them in a relaxed gait.

Emma held her saber up, distantly considering whether or not she would actually try to dispatch this one or kill him. Something told her the latter wouldn't be too much of a crime against humanity.

Seemingly effortlessly, Felix swung the club around as he neared and Emma ducked to miss the lethal blow to her temple.

"So _you're_ the mother," he commented with a tone that suggested intrigue, unaffected by the fight warring behind the blonde or the fact that she had just swiped dangerously close to his chest. Emma growled, unable to form a coherent response to convey her hatred towards him, and surged forward again. This time, Felix dropped the club as he dodged, one hand rushing out to grip her wrist and the other purchasing a firm grip on her side. He twisted her arm so the sword dropped and she was forced to put her back against his chest so her arm didn't break. His mouth was next to her ear as he whispered in a voice that sounded like glass breaking, "I see where he gets his rambunctious temperament from."

Emma cursed angrily, trying to pry herself away but unable to break his grip, surprised by his strength considering his deceptively slim stature and youthful appearance. She looked up to see her parents fighting, her father grabbing a boy that had tried to jump Mary Margaret and literally _throwing_ him away, and Regina throwing small balls of fire and scolding water at the lost boys, her magic severely restrained by something unidentifiable in Neverland's atmosphere.

And Hook, whose sword fighting looked more like an intricate dance only he knew, his blows precise and elegant, sweeping movements as he stepped around the boys in a well-practiced routine.

Emma groaned as Felix pulled her wrist up higher, creating an even more uncomfortable angle.

"If it's any consolation," he purred into her ear, "He'll forget you once Pan's done."

The grip on her wrist tightened and she prepared herself for the ripping pain that would surely come when he pulled it up higher and broke her arm, shutting her eyes tight and biting down on her lip – she wouldn't waist her breath on him.

"Felix!" Hook's voice called out, frantic and desperate.

Emma opened her eyes to see that, while her parents and the Evil Queen continued their fight, Hook had taken a step closer to where she was still in Felix's unyielding hold. His eyes darted between her face and the dirt-covered one that hovered above her right shoulder. He let the hand he'd been holding up drop and lowered his sword

"You said Pan owes me a favor, correct?" he asked.

Emma felt Felix's face pull up in an amused smirk, "I never said any such thing. I only said that you once did _him_ a favor."

Hook nodded, "True – but… Pan always repays his favors, he takes pride in it, and so he _is_ indebted to me."

He took a minute step closer.

Felix was silent for a long moment and then, "It seems he does."

The boy had barely finished his sentence when Hook said, "I'm calling in that favor."

"I'm not Pan."

"But you represent him," he responded quickly, "and he'll be pleased if he doesn't have to concern himself with reimbursing me."

Felix's grasp on Emma's wrist loosened infinitesimally before abruptly tightening and jerking upwards slightly, evoking a cry of pain from the blonde as she felt the muscles in her arm protest. She could feel the young man's leer as he spoke, the words coming out amused and cruel.

"Do I look to care what Pan feels in regards to me?" he said to Hook.

"Fine, an exchange then!" the pirate called out, the frantic edge in his voice shocking even Emma.

Felix barked a laugh, "Excuse me?"

"Me for her – you know they won't find him without me; they need me. If you hurt her, it will only harden everyone else's resolve," he hissed threateningly, moving closer, the menacing pirate captain rearing its head as she saw his shoulders square. And for the first time, Emma could see what everyone else feared in him, the darkness that usually just bit at the frayed edges of his nature expanding and unfolding before her eyes.

_This_ was Captain Hook.

His impossibly blue eyes landed on her briefly as the seconds stretched on. And the intimidating spell broke for an impossibly short moment, reminding Emma of what he was suggesting.

Her eyes widened fearfully, "_What are you doing?_"

Hook glanced at her briefly but otherwise ignored her muttered question. He eyed Felix meaningfully, dropping his sword and continuing his approach.

"Me for her," he repeated for emphasis, dropping his sword in the overgrown grass.

Felix considered this, his head cocking to the side as he studied Hook, the fight roaring on behind him. Emma's eyes absent-mindedly looked behind the pirate, surprised to see that many of the boys looked to him as if about to strike and then turned to the rest of the group – evidently under the guise that a discussion with Felix was not to be interrupted under any circumstances.

She turned her attention back to Hook just as Felix's sinister voice rang out through the clearing, demanding the attention of everyone in their immediate vicinity.

"Drop back!" he boomed, garnering a response not only from his comrades but from Emma's parents. As their eyes landed on her form, still pressed precariously against Felix's chest as he held her arm, ready to break it and then her neck, both parents stilled in their movements.

Luckily, the band of boys attacking them took a couple of steps back too, their weapons still raised.

Mary Margaret took a step in the direction of Hook but was pushed back by two Lost Boys. She glowered at them, white hot flames licking at her irises as she stared them down with what Emma could only describe as the fury of a tigress. David followed in his wife's footsteps, sword held aloft in front of him as he loomed over the boys separating him from the trio that was Emma, Felix and Killian.

"Move," he instructed loudly, his voice carrying all the authority and dominance she had always associated with kings. The boys didn't move and Felix's voice carried across the space to them, a hint of glee in his tone that reminded Emma oddly of Gold.

"Don't worry; your daughter won't be harmed. We're actually orchestrating a trade," he called out, flexing his fingers around her wrist. David and Mary Margaret frowned, both their stares landing on Hook's back as they put two and two together, the latter's mouth opening slightly in shock as the former's eyes glinted with something Emma couldn't quite place. Almost like respect but not quite.

Her thoughts were drawn back to the present when Hook spread his arms out.

"Well, how do you want to do this?" he asked indifferently.

Felix nodded in the direction of three boys who had been fighting David. They were almost immediately on either side of Hook, one unlatching his hook as the other two jerked his arms roughly behind his back. He didn't protest, though she saw him bite down on his lip when they pulled a little too roughly at his arms. When he was kneeling on the ground, arms secured behind him, surrounded by three armed Lost Boys; he looked back up to Felix.

"Now keep your end of the bargain," he hissed, looking at Emma meaningfully.

Felix sighed and she felt his lips brush her ear, "If you try to help him, if you do not instantaneously move towards your beloved parents and the witch, they will break his good hand and I will personally assist in the ripping of his shadow. Do you understand?"

Emma shivered as unbridled fury swept over like the tide of tsunami, igniting her bones and scorching her nerves. Her mouth tightened into a line as she refused to respond, tugging harshly at her arm so he understood the point. Felix laughed once, a quiet, unnerving sound, before unlatching her wrist and shoving her forwards so she landed on her knees a metre in front of Hook. His eyes met hers and she almost _felt_ his acceptance of the situation.

He knew what he was doing by sacrificing himself to them and it tore at her to watch the emotion bloom in his cerulean eyes.

Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but she couldn't – images of Felix's words appearing behind her lids at the very thought – so she settled for giving him a simple and nearly indiscernible nod. She only hoped he'd caught the reassurance that was hidden in it, the silent 'trust me' embedded into the simple action. For once, Emma hoped he'd read her like an open book.

Pushing herself up, she walked slowly around Hook and the other Lost Boys towards her parents. When she was finally standing beside them, she saw their shoulder drop minutely in relief before straightening as they faced Felix and the pirate's back.

"I would say it was a pleasure doing business with you but, really, I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again soon," Felix said derisively, locking eyes with Emma.

She felt her upper lip twitch, the primal urge to growl at him almost unrestrainable.

The blonde boy dropped her gaze and motioned for his comrades to follow him, looking down at Hook and grinning madly, satisfaction rolling off of him in waves as the three boys hoisted him up and began shoving him in Felix's direction. He grunted as he was propelled forward and nearly tripped, his graceful gait falling slightly as he was presented to Felix who said something inaudible to him, something that made Hook's visible fist clench tightly. And then the boys were pulling him into the trees, the rest disappearing into the foliage until Felix was the only one remaining.

"Until next time," he said with a mock-bow, looking specifically at Emma before turning around and striding arrogantly into the shrubbery behind him.

The second he was gone, Emma turned to her parents and Regina.

But the Evil Queen had already opened her mouth to speak, an exhausted and impatient edge to her words, "Well, there goes our map to Henry. How are we going to find him now?"

Emma met Regina's eyes, "We're going to find Hook _and_ Henry."

The brunette raised her eyebrows, "This mission is to save Henry -"

"Which we can't do without Hook – you heard him. Without him, we're lost so first we find him and then we find Henry. Unless you know you're way around this shit-hole of a realm?" Emma replied, cutting off the woman in front of her and staring her down.

"And how do you suppose we save the pirate? Ms Swan, _Henry_ needs to be our top priority – not that pirate."

"_That pirate_ just saved all of our asses," Emma hissed angrily, "Without him we wouldn't be here in the first place and we sure as hell won't be able to get back without him. And Henry _is_ my number one priority, which is why we need to find Hook!"

Regina leveled the blonde with a knowing stare, raising her eyebrow in a way that poked at Emma's temper, "Are you sure that's why we need to find him, Ms Swan?"

Emma's fists clenched and she suddenly had an overpowering urge to hit the mayor, her feet moving forward marginally so she was nearly toe-to-toe with the woman. It was her father's voice that broke the tense moment between the two women, his sturdy hand landing on Emma's shoulder and ever-so-slightly pulling her back from Regina.

"Okay, calm down. Emma has a point – if we want to find Henry _and_ get out of here, we need to find Hook."

Regina exhaled heavily, shaking her head as an incredulous and mirthless smile spread across her burgundy lips.

"_Fine_. So now what?" she snapped, her dark eyes seeking out theirs in the golden light of the afternoon. Emma looked in the direction the Lost Boys had gone when Mary Margaret spoke up, her soft voice drawing everyone's attention.

"I could probably track them – I haven't done it in a while but… I think I could do it," she said, looking at David who gave her a reassuring nod. Emma conceded as well, already striding to the spot where Felix had stood, lazily overseeing the entire fight. She knelt down to pick up her saber and glimpsed Hook's fallen sword to her right, lying nearly concealed in the tall patch of grass where he'd dropped it as he offered himself up as recompense. She walked over to it and picked it up, its weight surprising her as she held it deftly.

Her parents and Regina followed closely behind and the latter's voice forced her to turn and face them.

"What do we do when we catch up to them?"

Emma pivoted to face them, Hook's sword in one hand and her saber in the other.

She sheathed her weapon, still holding the pirate's blade, "We'll figure that out when we get there."

* * *

It was nearly hour before the voices of the Lost Boys drifted into their ears, only barely audible against the backdrop of birdcalls and insects. Mary Margaret hadn't taken long to readjust herself, her sharp eyes picking up on broken twigs and crumpled leaves where no one else would have noticed. They trailed behind the petite woman, Emma watching in awe as her mother forged a path out of seemingly nothing. There had been a moment of doubt, just before a young laughter echoed in the distance, when the blonde had considered the idea of them lost, of Hook completely and irrevocably out of reach.

In that moment, she had felt her chest seize up – because she knew that losing Hook meant losing Henry because there was no way they could manoeuvre Neverland without him. A small voice whispered in her head, _Even if you could traverse this death-trap of an island you would be trying to save him. _And it was the truth, because it wasn't just his skill-set that had her depending on him, but his presence. She didn't know exactly when she'd become so reliant on him, somewhere in between the strategic discussions and rare innuendos, but something told her she wouldn't be able to take a step back this time.

This particular milestone in their constantly evolving relationship could not be dismissed.

As the sun descended further and further down the horizon, the light slowly dimmed until finally the group of young men ahead of them lit their torches. It gave Emma, her parents and Regina something to latch onto in the distance, an anchor they could follow as they stepped over thick tree roots and avoided ostensibly harmless plants.

They were about twenty metres from the band of boys, shrouded by the thicket of overgrown shrubs and tree branches, when Felix's voice reached them. He spoke mockingly, his voice holding obvious disdain.

"So, do tell, why _are_ you in Neverland, Hook? You spent a good century trying to leave the last time."

The lilting voice that responded nearly drew Emma to a stop, especially when she heard the pain laced into his tone, "Not that I think it's any of your business but I'm trying to save the boy that Pan has decided to take hostage. He's somewhat important to me."

Felix laughed, "Oh, come now Hook. You and I both know that's not why you're here… and for the record, the boy is not yet in Pan's possession."

Emma's ears perked up and she nearly tripped.

Evidently, so did Hook's.

"What?" he said, and she could imagine him turning to look at Felix with his dark brows pulled together in confusion.

Felix sighed, as if the very conversation were taxing on his strength, "Yes, well, it seems the exchange has not yet occurred. The man and woman have some kind of protection device so we can't actually take the boy. Pan's currently in the middle of negotiations."

"Negotiations for what?" Hook asked before grunting in pain, the sound of scuffled feet made it seem as though he'd been pushed along and Emma grimaced thinking about his tightly bound arms. The way the ropes had criss-crossed tightly around them, digging into his fabric-clad arms made her think that it wasn't wrong to assume he'd have bruises there.

"No offence, Hook, but even if you were dying on the ground I wouldn't tell you that – you have a nasty habit of rising from the ashes and I wouldn't put it past your little band of heroes to come save you – even after I threatened the blonde one," he said indifferently.

Emma stiffened at her mention and waited to hear a response. It was Hook who broke the tense silence, his tenor obviously strained with the effort it took to keep it calm.

"What did you say to her?" he asked darkly.

Felix chuckled lightly, a mirthless and cold sound, "Nothing really, just a little motivational speech to keep her from doing anything stupid." Emma felt her parents look at her and ignored the desire to wave them off, keeping her mind focused on not tripping through the jungle as they continued to close the gap between their group and the Lost Boys.

Suddenly, Felix's voice boomed through the trees and for a second Emma thought they'd been caught. But her worries were quickly soothed when she registered his words, "_Boys_! We'll stop here – Pan wouldn't expect us to pass mermaids cradle at night. We'll continue in the morning."

"I was wondering if you'd be stupid enough to attempt that," Emma heard Hook murmur just before he grunted again and there was a thud of something heavy landing onto the dirt. She had a feeling it was the pirate's body falling onto the hard surface. The voices of the group of boys became louder as Emma and the others approached, until eventually they had a clear view of the small clearing the boys had stopped in. They stayed ten metres back, hidden in the trees, and formed a small circle.

"Now what?" Regina asked, her eyes flickering to the group of boys over Emma's shoulder.

"We have to figure out a way to distract them, or at the very least distract the ones guarding Hook," David said, the clogs in his mind already turning.

"Well once he's untied and had his sword, he'll be able to fight, right?" Mary Margaret asked Emma who shook her head fervently.

"No, he'll need his hook if he's going to fight."

"Wait – so now we're fighting?" Regina said, looking between the three Charmings with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, please _don't_ act like you're afraid to get your hands dirty," Emma reprimanded, levelling her with an unamused stare. The brunette opened her mouth to speak and David cut her off, drawing back his daughter's attention.

"Okay, so if we can get Felix and the others' attention, can you untie Hook and get his… er, hook?"

She nodded firmly in reply, and Mary Margaret extracted an arrow from the sheath at her back. David quietly unsheathed his sword and Regina garnered their attention again as she asked genuinely, "What do you need me to do?"

"While Mary Margaret and David distract the vast majority, I'll need you to hold off any immediate threats while I'm untying Hook," Emma replied.

The brunette nodded and rubbed her hands together, the friction creating a strange soft static sound as nearly invisible sparks erupted in the air around her pale fingers. There was a long moment of silence between them all before her parents nodded.

"We'll meet you back here in five minutes – okay?" Mary Margaret said, putting a gentle hand on Emma's arm. The blonde nodded and smiled tightly at her parents who returned the gesture and turned around, heading in an arc around the clearing so they remained unseen by the congregation of boys that appeared to be starting a communal fire-pit. Evidently, they were unafraid of the beasts Hook had warned their expedition party about.

Emma and Regina waited silently in the bushes, the former keeping a keen eye on Hook's seated form as she waited for the signal to move.

It came in the form of one of the boys yelling out in pain as he fell to the ground, an arrow lodged in his calf. Everyone in the clearing seemed to turn in the direction of the howling boy, and at least half made their way closer to him, questions and cries of surprise erupting in a cacophony of sound.

Felix remained where he was, leaned against the tree not three metres from Hook's position, and gave the injured boy an uninterested glance.

A tall and lanky boy made his way from the fallen Lost Boy to Felix, his voice carrying across the space so Emma and Regina heard his terse words.

"It was the mother's parents, we can probably catch them."

Felix sighed and looked around once, his eyes settling on the pirate as he answered, "Go on then, find them and bring them back here." The other boy nodded and ran back to where the large group had already started arming themselves before leading them into the shrubbery from whence the arrow had come. Their cries and catcalls echoed in the quiet night air, contrasting starkly with the almost lulling sound of the fire crackling close-by.

Emma looked around the clearing as the voices dissipated into the distance.

Felix hadn't moved but their numbers were severely decimated and only about two were in close proximity to Hook, one on either side. If Regina could stun the two closest and hold Felix off for a couple of seconds, Emma might just have enough time to untie him and get away.

She looked beside her to Regina and motioned for her to follow as the two of them crept silently towards the tree Hook was propped up against.

Emma turned to the brunette, "Do you think you could stun those two and hold Felix off for thirty seconds?" Regina chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, sizing up the boys and the blonde leader before nodding hesitantly.

"I can do it but don't expect me to be able to hold him off for long," she said, "What about the ones on the other side of the clearing? The second I stun those two, they'll come running."

"Hopefully by then we'll be out of there," she said tentatively, meeting Regina's eyes in the dim light. The woman nodded, something like understanding flashing in the dark and unfathomable depths of her eyes before hardening into resolve as she rubbed her hands together more fervently. Emma heard when the brunette stood up and she followed her across the small space that separated them from Hook and the Lost Boys.

They were a metre away when Regina stepped into their full view, her hands dashing out as two wisps of greyish-purple smoke was thrown at the two young boys guarding Hook. They fell in a heap as Felix pushed himself off the tree, looking past Regina to Emma who immediately knelt beside Hook. The brunette said something in a foreign dialect and put her palms out in front of her, throwing up some kind of invisible wall. When Felix reached it, he knocked on it lightly with his club, the other boys approaching rapidly behind him. He simply chuckled darkly, leaning back on his heels patiently.

"Love, what the _hell_ are you doing?" Hook asked, pulling Emma back to her own task as she used his sword to carefully cut the ropes encasing his arms. As they were sliced apart, he pulled his arms in front of him, flexing them briefly and turning to the boy on his left, reaching inside one of his pockets and extracting his hook.

"Saving your ass," Emma retorted as he clicked the appendage into place.

Just then, a soft breeze rippled through the air, like a distinct wave, and she turned to see Regina stepping back, her hands shaking as they all noted the wall that was no longer there. Felix's mouth spread in a weird smile, his sights solely set on Emma as he stepped lazily forward.

The other boys were still a good twenty metres away and Hook grasped the blonde's arm and yanked her back behind him.

"I don't commonly have an issue with mothers but you, my dear, have personally made my life trying of late. I might actually take comfort in handing you to Pan," he said to Emma. Hook raised his sword threateningly as Regina stumbled back and the blonde was forced to grasp her arm to keep her from toppling over. She looked over Felix's shoulder to the rapidly encroaching Lost Boys and distantly she could hear the other group coming back.

"Hook, we have to go _now_," she hissed to the pirate, her other hand reaching out to purchase his upper arm.

It was only a moment before he began stepping back, Felix's lack of intent clear as he watched them back into the Neverwood's shadows and turn around. They immediately began running, Hook leading the way as Emma dragged a fatigued Regina behind her.

They nearly ran straight into her parents and Mary Margaret cried out in relief when she saw her daughter, her hand landing affectionately on her shoulder just as her soft green eyes landed on the Evil Queen beside her. Mary Margaret was quick to sidle up to the woman, sweeping a hand around her waist and hoisting her arm over her shoulders to give her additional support.

Regina was too exhausted to care and Hook quickly resumed his role of team leader, though Emma could swear she saw indignation laced into his eyes and voice.

"We need to move now, follow me and do not stop for any reason whatsoever," he ordered, unwilling to wait for their affirmation before striding off into the night at a light jog. The rest of their group followed and it was a tense moment as Emma waited with bated breath to see if the Lost Boys would catch up, their enraged voices filling the night.

A wave of relief settled over their group as the voices subdued until eventually they were distant, nearly inaudible sounds, overshadowed by the loud clicking of insects and occasional bird call.

Emma didn't know how long they ran for but when they stopped it was closer to the beach, the sandy shores visible through the trees, the sound of the waves as they lapped at the sound oddly soothing. Hook turned to them all; his pale blue eyes iridescent in the moonlight, and seemed to scan their surroundings before sighing.

"This will have to do. We can't risk going back to the ship with the shadow so we'll have to rest here; the beasts in this area tend not to like the water so we should be safe, just try to refrain from touching anything, unless you actually _want_ to die – in which case, go right ahead." His last comment was said just as his eyes landed on Emma, a bite in his tone that tickled her temper for some odd reason. As he finished up, he turned around and walked a short distance away, stopping so he was still in their line of sight but just far enough away to be alone.

Emma bit down on her lower lip, momentarily undecided before she turned on her heel, heading in his direction.

As she reached him, he turned around and groaned.

"What do you want, love?"

And it was as though the simple action was a match, scratching against her temper and setting her emotions alight. Suddenly, hot anger burned through her veins as she remembered him stepping forward to sacrifice himself. And it wasn't purely the fact that his actions shot their cause in the foot that made her step forward and shove him harshly.

He stumbled backwards, shock and confusion briefly flitting across his features.

"What the bloody hell?" he said, regaining his footing as Emma took another step forward to repeat the violent action.

"You _idiot_," she hissed furiously, her thrust sending his back to a tree behind him.

"Pardon me?" he asked incredulously, pushing himself away from the trunk and stepping closer to her so they were toe-to-toe.

"What the hell were you thinking? Offering yourself up on a silver platter! You _fucking_ idiot!" she said, her voice rising ever so slightly as she tried hard to temper the emotions running through her. Hook frowned, outrage almost instantly tinting his handsome features, the ominous moonlight only adding to the intimidating affect it had as he stared down at her.

"You do realise, love, that if I hadn't done that, your left arm would be _useless_ and your neck would likely have been his next target."

"And _you_ realise that if I hadn't done what I just did, I'd have no way to find my son and you'd probably be dead in twenty-four hours," she countered angrily, "and don't think I don't know you're pissed at me for saving you, because you're not the only one who's an open book."

"I'm angry with you because it seems to me you're _trying_ to get yourself killed – you should have left me and kept going!"

"We _couldn't_," Emma ground out, punctuating her last word by pulling up her arm up to hit him again. However, before her fist could make contact with his chest, his hook caught her wrist deftly and held it away. Still fuming, she tried using her other hand to hit him but his hand almost immediately had a firm purchase on her wrist.

His cerulean eyes burned into hers, the sky clashing with the sea as their eyes locked, "Bloody hell Emma, why can't you just have _some_ self-preservation instincts," he said, his voice dropping as Emma was suddenly very aware of their proximity. The toes of their boots touched, his chest a hair's width away from hers, his face separated from hers by a mere inch. The familiar and oddly comforting aroma of spice and rum mixed with the ocean and something distinctly _him_ enveloping her.

Their eyes locked, she could feel herself leaning in, _giving in_.

"Emma?"

Mary Margaret's voice was like an electric shock, shattering the thick atmosphere that seemed to envelop Emma and the pirate who still had a firm hold on her arms. She shook him off and took a step back just as her mother came into view and watched curiously as he scratched the back of his neck almost awkwardly. Her attention, however, was returned to the petite woman to her right when she spoke.

"Sorry, David and I… uh," she glanced between her daughter and the pirate, "You moved out of sight and we were worried. Sorry." Mary Margaret gave Emma an apologetic look before turning on her heel and heading back to where Emma could now see her father standing, waiting for his wife to return. They had laid Regina's exhausted body against a tree.

Emma turned back to Hook, shoving her hands into her pockets and biting down on her lip.

"You should rest," he said quietly, "We have an arduous trek tomorrow."

She nodded, ignoring the strange pull she now felt to him, and turned around to walk to where her parents were speaking in hushed whispers. She bypassed them completely, sitting down against a tree a short distance from them and disregarding their meaningful glances. She didn't really want to know what they were saying, though she was pretty sure she already knew: it rhymed with book.

_What the hell was that?_ She demanded of herself, angrily musing the heated exchange with the pirate just a moment before. Since when had she started caring so much about his safety, enough to be angry with him for blatantly jeopardizing it? Because she knew that her anger wasn't purely conceived out of the affect his departure would have had on saving Henry. It was more than that.

Emma Swan cared about him.

And that notion, that revelation, floored her more than anything.

A voice whispered in the back of her head, nearly completely drowned out by the fog of exhaustion settling over her heavy limbs, _you've always cared about him, you're just finally admitting it._

* * *

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